


Foreshadowing

by CinderScoria



Series: it's just a story [1]
Category: Original Work, escape the night - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 16:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16622777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderScoria/pseuds/CinderScoria
Summary: shh, spoilers





	Foreshadowing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bird_Of_Scarlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bird_Of_Scarlet/gifts), [ETNMystic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETNMystic/gifts).



Their hands still on their keyboard. Somewhere outside their apartment a dog barks relentlessly. Any other day when that happens, it’s because someone’s walking near his fence. But the dog doesn’t stop barking after a minute or two, and that’s some cause for concern.

When they turn their head to look out the window, their screen glitches. Just for a second. A flash of green out of the corner of their eye. They whip their head back, frowning, but the screen stares back, unchanging, the cursor blinking on the last word they wrote.

They admit that they’ve been on edge lately. Birdy had sent them a message, one full of panic and concern about a voice in her head, asking if they were okay.  _ Okay is a relative term, _ they think dryly, but they haven’t been hearing voices—or at least, no new voices—so there’s that.

Still, these chapters are giving them trouble. Especially since they’re behind on schedule now, and hammering out thousands of words is harder these days when their head is constantly screaming that no one even cares. These are the voices they’re used to. Doubt. Depression. Anxiety. Amplified times a hundred by a disorder outside of their control. They roll their neck around their shoulders, returning to their story. They write because it makes them happy, not for the sake of other people.

Still, it would be nice if…

**_If they actually cared about you?_ **

They freeze. That is not a voice they know.

It chuckles, a deep rumbling that fills their room.  **_You shouldn't make it so easy to get inside your head, dear one._ **

_ I think you'll find it difficult to sustain yourself once you're in here, _ they think back, injecting venom into their thoughts.  _ You're the one who hurt Birdy. _

**_Oh, not just your Bird of Scarlet._** A wicked delight coats its words. **_You should really pay more attention to the community you love so much, Jas—_**

_ Don't call me that! _ they snap.  _ What are you talking about? _

**_See for yourself._ **

Their screen changes, shifts to the Ao3 tab they always have up but rarely paw through these days. (This time of year is always hard, depression soaks into their skin like ink they can't scrub away, and they want to believe it'll be okay but most days it's hard to see to the end of the week.) 

They scan the stories there. Their breath catches.  _ What did you do. _

**_What is needed, dear one. I've saved these souls, all of them, from their torment. I can do the same to you._ **

_ You brainwashed them!  _ They touch the screen, fingertips lingering on one username in particular.  _ You got Leah! _

**_I can take your hurt,_** it purrs. **_I can make it better. The survivors you love so dearly—_** They choke, a strangled noise in the back of their throat. **_Oh, but your plans for them are less than altruistic, hm? My, you're an ambitious one._**

They grind their teeth, half standing now, their hands gripping the edge of their desk.  _ You can't have them. And you can't have  _ me.

**_Fighting is futile, child. I always get what I want._ **

_ Not from me, _ they tell it firmly.  _ My readers are not your readers, my stories are  _ mine  _ and  _ mine alone, _ and my thoughts are _ mine _ to deal with however I can. I've fought monsters louder than you and you are  _ nothing _ in the face of my pain, so do us both a favor and get the  _ fuck—

_ “—out of my head!” _

It comes out as a scream, rocketing through the empty apartment and echoing down the street. They catch themselves on the desk, heaving deep breaths. Their knees shake. Their shoulders tremble. But the voice is gone, and that's all that matters.

Did that really just happen?

They ease themselves back on the chair, staring at the new passage written in their document. They don't remember writing this. It's too late now, too late to warn the others.

But that doesn't mean they can't fight back.

Outside, the dog continues to bark.

**Author's Note:**

> Something's not right...


End file.
